S'
by IceCrome
Summary: Game Start. Game Pause. Game Over.
1. Beginings

**GAME START**

He was eight, he was nine.

He was red, he was blond.

He was orphaned, and so was he.

And both were soon to become the most inseparable of friends.

He arrived on the third of August, and he sat uncomfortably in his registration chair. Mr. Wammy had been asking him questions like rapid fire. To which, Matt had replied to most answers, 'I don't know'.

He was assigned a room, alphabetically. Miheel was his name. Or at least that's what Watari told him.

The next day he was registered for school. Or, well, the classes in the orphanage. On said day, Mail Jeevas meet the most…androgynous boy he'd ever seen.

But good _god_ he was interesting.

He liked ABBA; said chocolate was better than video games (lies) and was the second-highest scoring child in the Wammy orphanage.

Which is what agitated both Miheel and Mail the most.

He was always so godammed jealous of that Near kid. He was a few years younger than him, maybe about seven or so, and was in the third grade, with the highest scores, and the best grades.

Miheel, or Mello, as he preferred to be called, spent every hour of every day studied so fucking _hard_, and it was just to beat the third grader who had taken away his glory. His pride.

And by a fucking _third grader_.

Mail couldn't help but laugh at how incredibly sad that was. Instead of focusing on their friendship, he tried to figure out how to beat a seven-year old.

As days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, he and Mello did practically everything together.

And soon, he discovered his own detest for Near. Because, well, Mello was rubbing off on him. That's how close they were.

The two boys just couldn't get enough of each other. Mello tailed Mail to class and vice-versa.

As before mentioned, the two were inseparable. They stayed up late, watching movies with their favorite actors. _The Cooler,_ _Ed Wood, Vertigo_ they loved pretty much anything with multiple obscenities.

And as the years passed, the two both grew. They both gained more interests, replacing movies with video games, and chocolate with…well…chocolate.

Mail discovered that he was the third most intelligent, and was then behind Near and Mello to succeed the person who they had most respected: L.

Unfourtunatley…

He was going to be second-in-line tomorrow.

As he tried to convince himself that Mello was 'just being Mello, and not _really _moving out from the Wammy house', he calmly breathed in, and breathed out.

Calmly.

He tried talking to him, several times. But god dammit, he was just so stubborn. Deep, deep down inside, Mail was petrified. He didn't want him to go. At all.

It all eventually led to Mail blocking the door so he wouldn't leave. Mello had to forcibly shove him to the ground, so he could get him out of his damn way.

"Mello…" Mail warned. "If you go, I'll scream." Mello rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now let me go, Matt." Mello lowered his head.

"And don't worry, I'll find you again."

**GAME PAUSE**

**SAVE & QUIT**

**CONTINUE**


	2. Middles

**GAME PAUSE**

**SAVE & QUIT**

**CONTINUE**

It was, for the sake of argument, the most boring day Matt had ever come across in his entire life.

And, for the love of god, he was playing _World of Warcraft._

Honestly, there is no god.

WoW is only for nerds with super-computers.

Granted, Mail 'Matt' Jeevas was a nerd. A big one, at that. But he refused to lower himself to that level. And yet, he had.

Sweet Jesus, what had become of him?

After Mello had left, those some five years ago, perhaps four, Matt had become mostly a shut-in, only doing work he was assigned to.

He barely went outside, and did most of said work through a computer or phone; only smoking through a window in his cruddy apartment. And during those years, he had become sorta-kinda-maybe friends with Near, since he was the only one who would come in his pig-sty of a room at Wammy's House and tell him somewhat-relative details.

And it was all thanks to that no-good asshole bastard that he called a friend.

Matt sighed.

Matt decided to quit, and closed the top on his laptop. He felt like watching some humor, so he could stop being so fucking emo.

'_Y-You're a whore! A filthy, filthy whore!' _Matt snickered at the animated sitcom. At least he wasn't feeling so deep in shit now.

After a while of watching television, he turned it off, and sighed. He couldn't, didn't return to his game for the sake of his brain cells. L33t was going to be the death of him. Matt closed his eyes and, if only for a moment, pretended that everything was alright.

He wasn't living in a cruddy apartment.

Mello was by his side.

L wasn't dead…

Kira was no more.

His parents weren't both dead.

And his eyes were open again.

Unfourtunatley, however, everything was still the same.

Matt picked up his DS and put in Phantom Hourglass. He at least could do some good by saving an imaginary princess, albeit an annoying one who can't see the fact that's she's going to be kidnapped if she was cast for the main role in said game.

He sighed once more.

It wasn't the game he should be blaming.

It should be himself.

And while he continued to seethe at his game, a knock on the door was heard.

A barely audible one.

Matt picked himself up from the tattered couch to answer the door.

"Alright, alright I'm coming. Stop pest-."

And in that very second of his entire life, Matt was paused.

Utterly speechless. He couldn't move at all.

"H-Hey Matt…Long time no see h-."

There, in the middle of the floor, collapsed from multiple wounds, was Miheel Keehl.

Or in other words:

Mello.

**GAME PAUSE**

**SAVE & QUIT**

**CONTINUE**


	3. Ends

**GAME PAUSED**

**SAVE & QUIT  
CONTINUE**

It was known fact to the two boys that a year after the incident, Mello had roomed with Matt, and Matt barely complained. Except for those 'rare' moments where said roommate was on his period.

Slash PMSing.

Slash both.

Matt usually just did whatever the hell the blond wanted him to do; and with little to no complaining.

While the two were sitting on a couch watching television for perhaps the last time, Mello had sprung up a plan. An insane, fatal, irresponsible, for lack of better word _retarded_ plan.

And Matt had agreed.

For what reason, he honestly didn't know.

But Mello did.

And he sure as hell wasn't going to tell Matt. It was a secret he was taking to his grave.

Mello had gone over his 'flawless plan that would totally not fail'. First, Matt distracted the guards. Then, Mello took Takada; about three miles off from the main roads, and then put her in the back of a truck and kill her. Matt thought that plan was, well, see the abovementioned adjectives.

Mello thought the plan was completley and utterly perfect. Minus the fact that they were both probably going to _die_.

But, Matt didn't care. He'd die for him and he damn sure knew Mello would do the same.

After reviewing the plan for quite some time, Matt wanted to divert both their attentions. So, he turned on the radio.

Cruddy reception and all.

As Matt and Mello listened to the multiple notes of 'Paint it Black', neither boy said a word. Matt could barely even touch his game. And the same was said for the chocoholic.

Matt and Mello made eye contact, as to say something neither could actually coherently say at said moment. It would simply come out as horribly as Chris Crocker's message to the world had.

Leave Brittney alone?

No. Shut up.

And while, Matt and Mello bid each other good night, Matt slept on the couch trying valiantly to play and stay focused on MGS: Portable Ops.

But he couldn't.

And while he tried to sleep, he simply made shapes within the lines in the wall.

Mello did the same.

_16 hours, 8 minutes and 33 seconds later…_

Mello and Matt could not eat the following morning.

It was as if they were on death sentence and, in a sense, they were.

Three hours later, Matt and Mello both took off to their destinations.

Twenty minutes later, Mail 'Matt' Jeevas was mere seconds away from being gunned down.

"Hey, since when did the police get such nice arms? I'm sure you'll want to know where my accomplice has taken Taka-."

Out of cold bold, every single one of Takada Kiyomi's bodyguards shot Mail Jeevas square in the chest.

"Ow."

Matt bled. He fell.

His cigarette went out.

And he died.

-

"Matt…I got you killed…sorry."

Twenty minutes later, both were dead.

-

**G A M E O V E R**


End file.
